The Midnight Tour

As he stood under the hot spray, he decided that he would have a nice breakfast, then go over to Beast House and try to get a refund on John’s ticket for the Midnight Tour.

“Your ticket? Well, you disappeared, old pal. I really didn’t think you’d have any use for it, so I sold it.”

“YOU SOLD MY TICKET???”

“Sorry.”

A weary smile lifted the comers of Owen’s mouth.

Chapter Forty-seven

Saturday Gets Under Way

“Wake up! Yo! Time to rise and shine, your highness. It’s me. Lynn. You there? You gonna pick up? Where the hell are you? Anyway, we had a visitor last night—as you already know if you listened to the previous message. We subsequently searched the house but didn’t have any luck finding him. Don’t know how he got in, either. But then, you’re the trained investigator, not us. And you’re making yourself conveniently scarce. Bitch. Hey, we are starting to worry about you. Not that you can’t take care of yourself, but...Never mind. We’re leaving for work in a couple of minutes. You can call me there or drop by. And don’t forget about tonight. We’re expecting you for the tour—in full battle regalia. Plan to get there in time for the picnic if you can. But don’t make us wait all day to hear from you, okay? It’d be nice to know you didn’t have an accident and shoot off your toe or something. Not that we care. Anyway, take it easy. Bye.”

On the way to Beast House in the passenger seat of the Jeep, Dana pictured herself asleep in the bedroom while someone hunched over her in the darkness, sliced her nightshirt all the way down, spread it open and snapped photographs of her body.

Did he use a flash?

Why didn’t I wake up?

And why did he leave his camera behind?

She realized that Tuck had spoken to her. “Huh?” she asked.

“The blue Granada. It’s gone.”

Dana looked at the area of curb where the car used to be. “You’re right. Maybe its owner finally showed up.”

“Or Eve had it towed away last night.”

“But where is she?” Dana asked.

Tuck shook her head. “Who knows? Maybe she spent the night somewhere with a secret boyfriend. Or maybe she was at home and just couldn’t hear the phone from her bedroom. Or heard it, but didn’t feel like answering.”

“Do you think she’s all right?”

Tuck shrugged. “I don’t know. But I think it’s way too early to start worrying.”

“When should we start worrying?”

Tuck swung off Front Street. She stopped at the closed gate to the Beast House parking lot, then met Dana’s eyes. “If she doesn’t show up for the Midnight Tour.”

Tuck and Dana entered Beast House together for the walkthrough.

In the attic, Tuck pointed out where she’d found the patch of fabric from Ethel’s gown—at the feet of a scraggly, stuffed brown monkey.

Dana had never seen the monkey before. “Where’d that thing come from?” she asked.

“Oh, that’s Vincent the umbrella stand. Maybe be’s the one who monkeyed with Ethel.”

Dana smiled and shook her head.

“You know what?” Tuck said. “This is a little strange. Should’ve mentioned it to Eve last night. Vincent isn’t supposed to be here.”

“Where is he supposed to be?”

“He used to be down in the foyer where everybody’d see him when they started the tour. He freaked people out. Kids used to cry. Even adults thought he was awful. So I’m told. Janice had him removed before my time. She actually couldn’t stand the cute little guy.”

“Nothing cute about him.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Reaching down, Tuck patted the top of his. head. Pale dust rose. He wobbled slightly.

“Real nice. Touch him.”

“The thing is, Janice hid him. She put him way over there in a back corner and covered him with a sheet so nobody would see him.”

“You saw him.”

“What can I say? I’m a snoop. Anyway, he was tucked out of sight until yesterday. Obviously, somebody moved him.”

“Great,” Dana muttered.

“Maybe whoever messed with Ethel. Or maybe it was the kid.”

“Lance?”

“Yeah.”

“I doubt if he was up here long enough. But you know what? This monkey might be what scared the crap out of him.”

“A cute little fellow like Vincent?” Tuck asked, and again patted the monkey’s head.

Unwilling to wait alone in the kitchen, Dana followed Tuck down the cellar stairs. They creaked under her footfalls. As she decended, she smelled dank earth and felt the air grow cool.

“Charming place,” she muttered.

“You should see it at night.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I get people sometimes, they won’t even come down here. Or they’ll start down, then run back up. You believe it? They fork out a hundred bucks for. the tour, then can’t even work up the nerve to visit the cellar.”

“I’m on their side,” Dana said.

At the bottom of the stairs, she quickly scanned the cellar. She’d only been down here once before, during Tuck’s “orientation” tour on Wednesday. She hadn’t liked it then. Now, she liked it even less. It seemed more cluttered than the attic. Lit by one dim, bare bulb dangling by a wire, it had too many shadows, too many dark places . where someone might crouch and lurk.

“I think I’ll just wait right here,” she said.

“Pussy.”

“Meow.”

“Oh, that’s pathetic.” Footsteps silent on the dirt floor, Tuck walked toward the tunnel hatch.

The area in front of it had been cleared of junk.

The floor hatch was Station Twelve of the audio tour.

From where Dana stood, she couldn’t see much of the round steel cover because Tuck stood in the way.

Glancing over her shoulder, Tuck asked, “Ever see The House on Haunted Hill? William Castle? Had Vincent Price in it? I caught it on cable a few months ago. There’s this awful scene in the cellar. The candles blow out...” She grinned. “Scared the bejeezus out of me.”